And We'll Never Miss a Party
by fleurdelisee
Summary: New Directions is having a party and with too much alcohol comes terrible game ideas, or the one where Santana dares Kurt to go down on Blaine.
1. And We'll Never Miss a Party

_Written for a prompt over at glee_kink_meme. Title from Soco Amaretto Lime by Brand New. One day I will go back to sensible writing. For now, I can only produce smut, which I guess isn't that bad. I'm reposting it because for some reason, decided it couldn't find it anymore and I do not have the patience to deal with this._

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><p>The music is loud and thumping and somewhere in the back of his mind, Blaine knows his headache when he wakes up will be horrible. He eyes the empty shot glass he dropped on the floor – he was aiming for the table but it was farther away than he thought – and squints, trying to remember how much he's had to drink. His gaze wanders to the empty bottle of tequila lying sideways on the coffee table before he can register he's moved his eyes but when he does, he realises the bottle was full when the party started.<p>

Before he can fully process what this implies, Kurt falls on him from the armrest of the couch, giggling and clinging and heavy in his lap as he squirms around and tries to sit next to Blaine on the couch. He just came back from upstairs, where most of the girls are watching a movie.

"Blaine!" he slurs, giggling and pushing at Puck until he groans and scoots to his left, leaving enough room for Kurt to fit.

Kurt drapes himself over Blaine, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing his face against his shoulder. Blaine loves the warmth of it all. He loves the smell of Kurt – it's a nice change from the stench of alcohol and sweat because this basement is way too stuffy and lacks ventilation so the air is still and disgusting – and the feeling of his fingers digging in his hip.

Whatever album they were listening to ends but no one moves to put another one. It's like everyone at once crashed and there's barely no movement anymore as everyone is sitting or lying down on whatever surface they could find. Kurt is the first one to move in a while, reaching forward to grab a bottle of vodka Blaine had forgotten about. He brings it to his mouth and takes a swig, wincing and coughing a little before handing it to Blaine.

Everything in Blaine tells him he's had enough already but then Kurt is pushing the bottle closer and to hell with being responsible, he's too drunk to even remember how to spell that word anyway. He takes a gulp and feels the liquid burn down his throat, feels its warmth as it goes down to his stomach.

Blaine extends his arm to put the bottle on the floor and he's not even done yet that Kurt's lips are on his, hot and pressing hard and licking to make Blaine open his mouth. It takes Blaine by surprise at first – well, as surprised as he can be in the hazy mess that is his mind at the moment – because Kurt is usually so reserved and anti-PDAs. As Kurt begins exploring every inch of Blaine's mouth with his tongue, Blaine's surprise turns into arousal and he clings to Kurt's arms to keep him close.

"Ouch, hey, dude—wow," Puck lets out when Kurt tries to crawl into Blaine's lap without breaking the kiss and kicks him.

Blaine pulls away, turning his head when Kurt chases his lips. He looks at Puck who's rubbing the side of his thigh and staring at Kurt and Blaine like they grew a second head.

"Wow what?" Blaine asks, forcing the words out even as Kurt mouths at his jaw, his hands pulling his hair. If Blaine could focus on two things at once, he would file away the fact that alcohol makes Kurt horny.

"You—this. Didn't expect it."

"You didn't expect me and my boyfriend to make out?" Blaine says, trying to slur as little as possible. He's not sure he succeeded.

"Yeah but _Hummel_," Puck answers with conviction before taking the beer Lauren is handing him.

"S'my name," Kurt comments, grinning flippantly at Puck. "It's also my dad's, but I don't want to think about him right now because I start feeling guilty because of how ridiculously smashed I am," he rambles on, finishing with a high-pitched giggle.

Blaine strokes his back a few times, smiling at Kurt, who grins back and shifts until he's sitting sideways in Blaine's lap, his arms around his shoulders.

"No but Puck's right," Santana calls as she appears at the bottom of the stairs, clinging a red bottle in her hand and holding herself up against the wall with the other. "I'm surprised he even had a drink to begin with. But never mind that, kids, let's play Truth or Dare."

"That's lame," Puck drawls, sinking lower in the couch and propping his feet up on the coffee table. "It stopped being fun when I turned eight."

"That's because you never played with me. Autie Tana has a special drink to make things a little bit more exciting. Hummel! Give me the vodka!" she shouts, sitting on the coffee table and extending her hand, waiting for it. When Kurt gives it to her, she holds it in front of her face and frowns at it for a few seconds. "Shot glasses!" she finally says.

"Over there," Kurt says, pointing a cupboard.

She staggers towards it and takes out a box of glasses, heading back for the table and nearly falling on it. "Vodka and tabasco sauce shots for everyone who chickens out of their truth or dare."

"Still lame," Puck replies.

"You can go upstairs watch Dirty Dancing with the girls if you prefer that," Santana snaps.

Kurt perks up at the mention of the movie and starts getting up. Blaine grabs a hold of the back of his shirt and yanks him back against his chest. "You're not going anywhere," he growls in his ear, not wanting to lose how warm Kurt is against him and definitely not wanting to be left alone with Santana and her crazy, crazy drunken mind.

"Right, so the rules. You ask anything. _Anything_. We're not tweens anymore and we're way too drunk to care about what's doable and what's not. No limits."

"Nothing leaves this room," Finn adds.

"Deal," Artie says and everyone repeats it.

It starts out pretty tame anyway, so Blaine focuses on Kurt's fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and Kurt's mouth on his skin and Kurt all over him and his mind is comfortably fuzzy and filled with _Kurt_and he's really really happy about it.

"Blaine Warbler, truth or dare?" Brittany asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He blinks at her a few times, trying to remember what the thing he's supposed to answer with is. "Truth," he finally says.

"If you had to hook up with someone else than Kurt in this room, who would it be?"

Blaine blinks at her, completely sure Santana whispered that question in her ear because it's too thoughtful for a_sober_Brittany. He looks around the room, pondering what he was asked.

"It's hard to say, really," he starts talking without really noticing he does, like his brain-to-mouth filter is off. "I mean, Puck is a stud but he's too easily submissive, you know? With Lauren and all, it's clear he likes not being in control and I don't really dig that. Finn is hot but he's Kurt's brother and he's a bit dumb and I'm really into brains as a rule, so yeah, not Finn."

Gnawing on his bottom lip, he continues looking around the room. "Brit, Santana, Lauren, sorry but I'm _so_gay. Artie, hum, no offence dude, but does it even work? Don't answer that. Sam, your mouth is sinful but you're too blond. Mike. I would totally hook up with Mike." Blaine stops for a second. "But Kurt, really. Like, I would go against the rules and run off with Kurt anyway. I really love Kurt."

"Yeah, we know," Finn says, his tone a mix of annoyance and fondness as Kurt kisses Blaine's cheek, smiling.

"Okay, okay, my turn," Puck says. "Kurt, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Are you a virgin?"

"No," Kurt replies calmly. "In every meaning of the word, no."

The room is quiet for a moment after that.

"Kurt, truth or dare," Santana says, breaking the silence.

"I just answered one!" he complains.

She doesn't say a word, only grabs one of the red shot glasses and hands it to Kurt. His eyes widen and he shakes his head. "Dare," he finally groans.

"I want a proof. Go down on preppy."

"I'm not drunk enough for that," Kurt calls.

"Want one of those?" Santana asks him, still holding the shot glass.

"Your name suits you so well, Satan dear," Kurt snarls as he slides to the floor.

Blaine lets out a shaky breath when Kurt kneels in front of him. As soon as she gave Kurt his dare, Blaine's mind started reeling with want but he never thought Kurt would actually do it. Blaine is convinced he will when he puts his hands on Blaine's knees and pushes to try to get him to spread them.

"Are you sure about this?" Blaine asks hurriedly, his nerves making his words even more slurred than the alcohol in his system.

"Yes."

"Kurt, you're drunk." Blaine's voice is strangled because Kurt is stroking his inner thighs, his face too close to his crotch for him to be able to focus.

"Yes, so are you, what's your point?" Kurt sounds annoyed, like—like he actually wants to do that and Blaine is only cockblocking him, and oh god, that's too hot for Blaine's weak willpower to deal with.

Blaine's breath catches in his throat when Kurt unbuttons his pants and starts trying to pull them down for better access. Blaine lifts his lips to help him but Kurt's fingers are too numb and clumsy and it takes him forever to finally have them down to the middle of his thighs.

Kurt grins up at him before pressing his hand to the bulge in Blaine's underwear, stroking slightly and causing a soft moan to leave Blaine's lips. Kurt chuckles and presses again, this time wrapping his fingers around Blaine's cock and stroking it a few times. Blaine's hips twitch forward and Kurt laughs again.

Kurt leans forward and presses his lips to Blaine's cock in a soft open-mouthed kiss, his breath moistening the thin cotton and making Blaine groan. He repeats the motion, moving from base to head.

Blaine's breath is short and laboured and it takes him everything he has not to grab Kurt by the hair and force him to _get on with it oh my god_. Usually he doesn't mind the teasing – hell, he teases Kurt enough to deserve being teased back – but the entire situation is pulling on his nerves enough as it is that he doesn't need another reason to tense up.

"Kurt," he groans when the other boy starts nuzzling his length through the fabric of his briefs.

"Make him beg, dude," Puck says in a breath.

Kurt jerks his head up to look and him and Blaine mimics him, wide-eyed.

"What?" Puck lets out. "This can't get any weirder anyway."

Kurt grins wickedly and that and Blaine feels something tighten in his stomach. When Kurt brings his attention back to Blaine, it's to kiss from where his jeans stop to the crease where his thigh meets his hip. Kurt sucks and licks and nips at the sensitive skin, hovering over Blaine's crotch – not without letting out a puff of hot air that makes Blaine shiver – to kiss up his other thigh, all the way to the waistband of his jeans. His hands are on Blaine's knees, stroking lightly.

Kurt repeats the motion, until he's at Blaine's hip again but this time he pushes his shirt up and holds it there to kiss above the elastic band of his briefs and all the way across his stomach, from hipbone to hipbone. His free hand is stroking up and down the inside of Blaine's thigh and he's going to spontaneously combust really soon if Kurt keeps this up.

"Kurt, seriously. Just—" Blaine mutters, gasping when Kurt nips his right hipbone.

"Just what? You heard Noah," Kurt replies flippantly, smiling up at him and sitting back on his heels, his hands resting on his own thighs. His pupils are blown and his cheeks are red but Blaine doesn't know whether to blame it on the alcohol or the lust.

Blaine stares down at Kurt and bites his lip. For the first time since they've started having a sex life together, he feels like using their safe word. It's not that what Kurt is doing is too much to take – they've done far worse; it's that he would feel so embarrassed to beg in front of all their friends. He's mortified enough as it is that adding the entire submissive-pleading level would probably kill him. It's not that he has a reputation or anything – well, he sort of does actually – but there are things he'd rather only do in private and then there's the fact that—

"Blaine?" Kurt asks with a frown. "You okay?"

Blaine bites his lip again and closes his eyes. "Gap," he lets out in a breath and then waits to see if Kurt is too drunk to realise what he's just used.

When he opens his eyes, a second later, Kurt's eyes are wide and apologetic. Before he can see it coming, Kurt is climbing in his lap and hugging him, muttering 'sorry' over and over again in his hair.

"Hey, wait what's going on?" Lauren asks, the others mirroring her question. "Santana, get him one of your shots, he's bailing out.

"We can stop if you want," Kurt whispers to Blaine, ignoring everyone.

Blaine shakes his head. "No. Just. No more teasing. That's the—the thing that pushed it too far. Not in front of them. I don't want them to hear me beg. I'd rather you stop than that."

Kurt leans back so he can look Blaine in the eyes. They both know that what happened will ask for a serious conversation but this will have to take place when they can both walk straight or spell their own names.

"Alright," Kurt replies before going back to the floor. "Anyway, I can't stop. If I do, I'm pretty sure Santana's shot will burn through my oesophagus."

"What was that about?" Santana asks with annoyance.

"Nothing," Kurt tells her before hooking his fingers under the waistband of Blaine's briefs and yanking them down.

Blaine doesn't have the time to gasp at the feeling that Kurt's mouth is on him, warm and wet around the head of his cock and his eyes roll back in his head while his hands flail ridiculously before resting on Kurt's head. The room has gone eerily quiet so every sound Blaine makes, every whimper or gasp, resonates through it and he would feel self-conscious and embarrassed if Kurt had not just brought his hand that's not wrapped around Blaine's cock to his balls.

Kurt sucks shallowly at the head for a while, his tongue flickering around it every now and then. He pulls his mouth off – the pop produced absolutely obscene – to lick a streak from the base to the head, causing Blaine to jerk his hips up and grunt. When Kurt starts mouthing at Blaine's cock without a rhythm or much conviction, Blaine forces his eyes open and looks down at him.

"I've been thinking—" Kurt trails off when he notices Blaine looking at him. "Don't move."

With that, he puts his arm across Blaine's hips and takes a deep breath before once more wrapping his mouth around Blaine's cock. Blaine wonders what he meant by what he said until he, instead of sucking only on the tip, starts sinking down until Blaine's cock hits the back of his throat. Blaine's eyes shoot close and he's breathing hard, his fingers yearning to grip Kurt's hair to keep him there. Less than a second later, Kurt is coughing and wiping his chin and teary eyes.

"Ugh," he groans. "My gag reflex is a bitch."

"I hear you, brother," Santana comments.

"Like that's a problem now, Sappho," Kurt replies while idly jerking Blaine off.

Blaine misses her reply because Kurt chose that moment to once again take him in his mouth; all he knows is that it made Kurt chuckle because – oh god – he did it around Blaine's cock. The vibrations make him see stars and he stifles a moan, gripping the armrest of the couch to avoid hurting Kurt by pulling on his hair.

Kurt braces his hands on Blaine's hips and starts bobbing his head back and forth, clearly determined to make Blaine come embarrassingly quickly. Blaine opens his eyes to look at Kurt and moans at the sight. He will never get used to seeing Kurt's lips wrapped around him, to seeing his angelic face doing something as filthy as this. Kurt meets his eyes and winks.

Pulling on Blaine's hips, Kurt lowers him on the couch and then one of his hands wanders down, the faint brush of fingertips making Blaine shiver. His hips buck up when Kurt presses his thumb against his entrance, his other hand firmly pinning his hips down.

Something warm coils up low in Blaine's stomach as Kurt continues sucking enthusiastically and rubbing his thumb over his hole and he should really warn Kurt.

"Kurt—" he gasps out, his hands lacing through Kurt's hair to try to pull him off.

Kurt groans around his cock and slightly shakes his head. Blaine lets out a groan and keeps his hands in Kurt's hair, his head falling back as he doubles his speed and sucks harder, his cheeks hollowing. Just a few more seconds, really, it won't be long, just—

Blaine comes when Kurt pushes his thumb passed the tight ring of muscles. He moans and shudders as Kurt sucks him through his orgasm. He then carefully takes Blaine out of his mouth and starts licking him clean. He stops when it becomes too sensitive and Blaine whimpers. With one last kiss to his now soft cock, Kurt eases him back in his underwear and then tugs his pants up, letting Blaine button them himself.

The room is completely silent even as Kurt reclaims his seat between Blaine and Puck, dabbing at the corners of his mouth to make sure they are clean. Blaine blinks a few times as his mind clears up and then he grins at Kurt, leaning into him and hiding his face in his neck.

"I can't believe you did that," Blaine mutters against his skin.

"Me neither," Kurt replies, his words still as slurred as before.

"Even Santana didn't swallow," Puck says to break the silence.

"Hey!" she snaps, glaring at him.

"Dude, what did you do to make him come so fast?" Artie asks cautiously, squinting. "One second he looked like he could last forever and the next he was falling apart."

"He started fingering me," Blaine replies, so far beyond being awkward about it. "Well, not exactly."

Kurt makes a fist and wiggles his thumb with a smirk. "It's magical," he says with a giggle and Blaine nods. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go up to my room before I sober up and I realise what I've just done," Kurt adds before getting up. "You were right, Puck. This game is lame."

He staggers slightly and extends his hands to help his balance. As he starts up the stairs, Blaine glances one last time around the room before heading after Kurt.

"Where're you going?" Finn asks.

"Reciprocation," is all Blaine replies before going up the stairs, using the walls to stay up as his feet act like they have a mind of their own.

Finn's '_dude_' is the last thing he hears before Kurt realises he's following and grabs his arm to pull him upstairs faster.


	2. We'll Keep Them Going Constantly

Kurt's first thought when he wakes up is 'ouch.' His head hurts like it has never hurt before; it feels like his brain is constantly banging against his skull. He carefully opens his eyes and whimpers in the back of his throat, the pale morning light hitting his retinas making his headache a thousand times worse. Keeping his eyes closed, he tries to remember when exactly he made it to his bed. The last clear memory he has is explaining to Rachel, Mercedes, Quinn and Tina how his DVD player worked and then heading for the basement, where he had left Blaine alone and at the mercy of his crazy friends.

As sleep slowly leaves him, he realises something warm and heavy is pressed on his hip. Wincing, he opens his eyes and sees that it's Blaine's arm, and wow, wait, when did they get _naked_, oh my god. A second breathing that is definitely not his own makes Kurt freeze. Prying his eyes opened again, he turns his head to look behind his back and Puck is lying there, passed out cold. With a nervous lump forming in his throat, Kurt pulls the covers higher over himself and Blaine and stares at Puck with wide eyes. At least – thank god, thank god, _thank god_ – he's fully clothed.

After a few minutes of Puck not moving, Kurt calms down enough to realise how gross he feels. He feels clammy and too warm from sleeping against Blaine all night and sweating all the alcohol he consumed. Also, quite possibly, sweating through the really messy sex his sore body is telling him they had.

Groaning, Kurt slips out of bed and heads for the bathroom he shares with Finn, not feeling courageous enough to look around the room for something to put on. Anyway, he's pretty sure he never heard Finn go upstairs last night so he's probably crashed somewhere in the basement. The room swings around him as he walks and he's almost sure he's still drunk, which is both pathetic and kind of epic because, wow, he _really_ drank a lot the night before.

Holding on to the wall, Kurt reaches for the shower curtain, yanking it open. A shower can't make things worse and at least he'll probably start feeling human again as well as stop smelling like sex and sweat. Also, he's pretty sure there's dried come on his stomach but he doesn't dare look down.

He lets out a yelp when he sees Finn sleeping in the bathtub. Quickly, Kurt grabs his towel and wraps it around his waist before crossing his arms over his chest. Carefully, he bends down and pokes his shoulder, repeating the motion harder when Finn doesn't react.

"Finn, hey," he lets out, his voice raspy and low and his painful throat. His mouth feels like a sandbox. "Finn. Wake up. Get out of my bathtub. Finn!"

Finn finally wakes up and blinks at Kurt. He mumbles something that sounds like nothing at all before sitting up and rubbing his neck. "Where am I?"

"In our bathtub," Kurt replies, his temper short. This thumping headache will probably kill him before the day ends.

Finn eyes him up and down and then his eyes widen. "Why are you—we didn't—dude tell me—am I wearing clothes?"

Kurt takes a step back and shakes his head. "You are. You're fully clothed and nothing happened, _oh my god_. Now get out, I need to take a shower."

Finn groans but steps out of the bathtub. Kurt is too eager to wash up to notice him heading for the wrong bedroom.

As it turns out, showering actually makes it worse. The water hitting the tiles sounds like gunshots and instead of feeling like a pleasant massage, his perfectly-pressured shower head makes it feel like he is getting poked by giant needles relentlessly while the smell of his shampoo and soap bring a bitter taste to his mouth. Not putting the lights on was the best idea he had so far, but at least he got rid of what was definitely dried come covering a surprisingly large percentage of his skin. Towelling his hair dry feels like torture so he does it quickly before heading straight back for his bed. He could use a few more hours of sleep.

When he gets back to his room, Finn is sprawled out on his bed. Clearly, he didn't notice Puck and Blaine in all of his naked glory a few inches away from him. Kurt puts on the first pair of underwear and shirt he can find – he's pretty sure they're Blaine's – and stands at the end of his bed, his fists on his hips. He wanted to _sleep_ damn it, and now he can't because there's three guys taking all of the space.

He's still standing there, frowning, when he hears giggles coming from the doorway.

"Damn, Kurt, you need to tell me how you did that," Mercedes says as she walks in to wrap her arms around Kurt's waist. Kurt's arms go around her shoulders immediately and he rests his head on top of hers. It feels great to not have to support the weight of it alone. "Did you wish really hard?"

"I'm a pimp," he replies, laughing to himself. "Sadly, I only slept with one of the three."

"Do I get a prize if I guess which one?"

Kurt laughs again, holding her tighter. He's clearly still a bit drunk, which explains why he's so clingy. "I love you, Mercedes," he whispers and she holds him closer.

"I love you, too, boy. I'd love you even more if you brushed your teeth. Your breath smells like my uncle Terry."

"The one who set fire to the Christmas tree last year?"

"That one. Now you either brush your teeth and come downstairs with the girls and I or stay in here alone and not fed. Did I mention we're making breakfast? In any case, I'm not staying in this room. This," she says, motioning between Kurt and the bed, "can only end badly."

"Mm," Kurt hums. "But if I go, you won't get to see me wake them up. It's going to be hilarious."

"Is Blaine naked?" she asks, eyeing him with interest.

"Yes," Kurt replies wistfully, grinning.

"Can I get my camera, first?"

"No. Definitely not."

"Not for _that_, pervert. Finn's face when he sees he's sleeping an inch away from a naked guy will be priceless."

Kurt ponders it for a moment. It's true that Finn's reaction will be something to capture on film, but at the same time, he's pretty sure Blaine would be really pissed off.

"No, we'll just have to make sure we remember it forever," Kurt tells her before clearing his throat. "You want to do the waking up?"

"Of course," she says and lets go of him to get closer to the bed. Reaching into her pocket, she takes out her phone and flips it open. She fiddles with the buttons for a few seconds before holding it up. "Ready?" Kurt nods and she presses one last button.

A loud alarm clock buzzing fills the room and Kurt winces, putting his fingers in his ears to block the sound. On the bed, the three boys wake up with a start, their eyes wide.

"What the hell," Finn grunts, soon mimicked by the two others.

"Mercedes, cut this out," Kurt whines and she does, biting back a laugh. "You should have done like the girls and I. No drinking. I feel fine this morning." Turning to the three guys, she shakes her head. "There will be breakfast downstairs soon. Tina, Rachel and Quinn are on it. I need to go try to find the others, now."

"Sam and Artie are in my room," Finn mutters. "Don't ask me how Artie got up there."

With one more laugh, Mercedes leaves the room. Kurt remains where he is, looking over the three of them, waiting for realisation to hit them. Blaine is the first one to notice what's going on.

"Kurt," he almost whines. "There's only you missing on this bed for this to be my wildest fantasy."

"You're into foursomes?" Kurt asks dryly, nonetheless sitting next to Blaine and letting him wrap his arms around his waist. Blaine buries his head in his hip and Kurt pats the mess that is his hair.

"I'm into 'Blaine-getting-some'," he replies in a serious tone. It doesn't last, though, and seconds later he's shaking with silent laughter. "Ow, no, no laughing, my head hurts."

"Hummel," Puck groans and Kurt turns his head to look at him. "Why am I in your bed?"

"Find me," Kurt replies, letting Blaine pull on him until he's lying next to him, Blaine holding him tightly so he doesn't fall off the bed.

"Dude, what the hell happened here?" Finn asks and there's an edge of panic in his voice

"Kurt and I were having sex when Puck staggered in, said 'carry on' and then passed out on the bed," Blaine replies calmly with a shrug. Kurt's eyes widen and that makes Blaine chuckle. "We were almost done anyway. And it's not worse than what happened in the basement."

Kurt sits up quickly at that, the throbbing pain in his head the least of his worries. He was sure it was a dream. It had to have been a dream. There's no way he did _that_ in front of _everyone_.

"I can't—no. No way. There's no way we—I—no."

"Except you totally did," Finn deadpans. "I'll need brain bleach."

"What was I on?"

"Tequila and vodka," Santana says from the doorway, her voice scratchy. "Tell your dad his bed is comfortable, by the way," she whispers before slumping on Kurt's bed, curling in a ball between Finn and Puck's legs. "You might want to clean the sheets," she adds and it's only then that Kurt realises the clothes she's wearing are partly Brittany's.

She rubs her cheek against the brown fur throw and smiles. "There was a time in my life when being in bed with four hot guys would have turned me on so much," she muses out loud. "Now I only think it stinks in here."

They all stay silent after that. Kurt is trying desperately to go back to sleep, hoping his headache and burning embarrassment will be gone when he next wakes up. Blaine stroking up and down his arm is helping him and he can feel himself getting heavier already.

"I think I'm dying," Finn says, breaking the silence and ruining Kurt's attempt at sleeping.

"I'm not allowed to cheer, am I?" Santana asks, her voice muffled because her face is pressed against the mattress.

"Santana? That's where you went?" Brittany says from the doorway. Kurt keeps his eyes closed but he hears her padding softly into the room. "Wow, four guys and a girl on the same bed. This is like that movie we watched the other day, Santana," she stage-whispers before climbing on the bed, lying across Kurt, Blaine and Finn's legs to use Santana as a pillow. "My head hurts," she then whines.

"All our heads hurt," Puck groans. "Didn't Mercedes talk about breakfast?"

"Mm," Blaine hums. "But we'd have to move. You think you could text her so she'll bring some up for us?" he asks Kurt, poking him in the ribs.

"She'll probably pour orange juice on us if I do that," Kurt whispers. "And Tina will get all up in our faces about us abusing the paternal paradigm or something."

"The only paternal thing I abused today was beddings," Santana says before chuckling. "But let's go. I need coffee like Hudson needs to get laid."

She rolls off the bed and pulls Brittany along, completely ignoring Finn's offended huff, the blonde complaining but following her. Puck is next to get up, staggering and tripping over Kurt's boots. He swears under his breath and then he's out of the room.

"Finn," Blaine says, elbowing him. "Dude, you need to go."

"Why," he moans, burying his face in the pillow abandoned by Puck.

"Because I'm naked and I need to get dressed. Preferably without you in the room, but you already saw my dick anyway, so it's your choice."

"You were naked the whole time? Dude!" Finn is out of the bed in a flash, making a face.

"No, I took my clothes off somewhere between when you nearly crashed down on me and now," Blaine snaps and that makes Kurt giggle against his skin.

Finn huffs and leaves the room, a hand over his eyes.

"Alone at last," Kurt whispers and then pushes at Blaine so he can stop being scared of falling off the bed.

"Good morning," Blaine whispers back, curling into Kurt. "How are you feeling?"

"Like crap."

"Me too," Blaine moans before kissing Kurt's cheek.

"So, I didn't dream it, did I? I actually went down on you in front of everyone?"

"I'm afraid you did. Don't be mortified. We were drunk and you were dared to do it. In most social circles it's enough justification."

Kurt hums and shakes his head. "I'll never be able to face them again. Especially Puck. Did he really – while we were–" Kurt is blushing when he trails off.

"We hid under the covers until he was passed out. Then I wanted to stop but you kind of—attacked me."

Kurt winces. "Define 'attack.'"

"You pinned me to the mattress and resumed fucking me."

"Oh," Kurt breathes out, feeling a blush creeping up his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

Blaine bursts out laughing. "What for? For making me come a second time less than an hour?" Kurt shakes his head and rolls out of bed with a sigh. "I like the sight of you with my clothes on," Blaine comments as Kurt drags his feet around the room to find clothes for Blaine.

Kurt laughs and turns his back to hide his blush. Finally finding what he was looking for, he throws it on his bed and puts on pants before he sits on the edge of it, fighting the urge to lie back down and sleep for the entire day. Once Blaine is dressed, he grabs Kurt's hand and they both make their way downstairs. The sunlight pouring into the dining room is blinding and Kurt shields his eyes with his hand.

There's a resounding silence when the others notice them. Kurt's skin is on fire as he feels his friends' eyes boring into him and he quickly sits down next to Mercedes. Blaine joins him and they both clear their throats.

"Artie, give me that croissant. You totally lost, I was right, they were not having sex upstairs," Tina says, reaching across the table to snatch the pastry from Artie's hands.

"So, breakfast," Rachel chirps, entering the room with two plates covered in pancakes. Kurt could kiss her and her perfect timing. "There's coffee if you want, and orange juice. We also have berries to eat with your pancakes and maple syrup, and if you need anything else, you just ask."

"Why are you being so nice?" Kurt asks as he reaches for the coffee, smirking at Blaine who was not fast enough to grab it first.

"I bet you anything they have compromising pictures of us," Santana snarls.

"We only thought you would be pretty messed up this morning. Next time we'll let you suffer alone if you prefer," Quinn snaps, holding the plate of pancakes just out of reach of Santana and glaring at her.

"Sorry, Quinny darling, of course you always have the best of intentions. My bad," Santana replies, her tone dripping with forced sweetness. "Now feed me."

The conversations flow easily for a while, most of it done by the non-hangover participants. The pancakes are_really_ good and the coffee is perfectly brewed and if Kurt's stomach could settle down, he would truly enjoy this moment.

"So," Mercedes begins when there's a moment of silence. "I heard we missed quite a show last night."

"You mean Kurt blowing Blaine? Yeah, you missed that," Artie replies around a mouthful of strawberries.

Kurt chokes on his sip of coffee, his cheeks once again on fire. "So much for 'nothing leaves this room', guys!" he squeaks once he stops coughing. "I was _drunk_. It was a _dare_. It was either that or drink Santana's insane shot. Don't judge me."

"I'd have chosen the shot," Mercedes says with a smirk and everyone around the table agrees with her.

"But Hummel's a kinky top," Santana says. No one speaks after that and Santana's smirk is nothing short of smug.

"What do you mean?" Finn asks warily and Kurt looks around wildly, trying to find something to kill himself with.

"Well, from what I gathered, they're into D&S and Kurt's totally a top. They have a safe word, for heaven's sake. And well, Kurt likes to show off his things, don't you, honey?"

"Wha—" Kurt breathes out, staring at her.

"Oh and preppy said he likes when his partner is in control, which is why he wouldn't hook up with a big bottom like Puckerman." She pauses to smile smugly at them. "Am I right or am I right?"

"How—?" Blaine asks, shaking his head.

"_Please_. All I think about is sex. I know which cues to pick up."

"Well," Blaine begins slowly. Kurt shoots him a glare and he only shrugs. "We're not the only ones to have tried that, right?" They all blink at him and Kurt ducks his head, putting his hand on his forehead to shield everything out. "Oh come on, it's perfectly normal to experiment. Don't give me that look."

"So," Finn starts, squinting and ignoring Kurt's litany of 'shut up, shut up, shut up'. "All those times you're kind of a bitch to Blaine, it's actually roleplay?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Blaine replies. "I mean, it's not full on D&S with all it implies, but—"

"Enough!" Kurt snaps, hitting the table with his palm. "Let's all move on, okay?" he adds shrilly, glaring at Blaine as he lets out a nervous laugh.

Blaine pats his hand, apparently unfazed by Kurt's scowling and unaware of just how shameful this conversation was.

Kurt stays silent for the rest of the meal and locks himself in his room with the firm intention to stay there until everyone is gone and he can die of humiliation alone. To make matters worse, there's still a splitting headache making him cranky and this is definitely the worst day of his life since the day his mother died, and oh god now he's tearing up because _what would his mother think?_

Kurt wipes his eyes quickly when there's a knock on his door. "I don't want to see anyone," he snaps before sniffling.

"Kurt, it's me. Can I come in?" Blaine says from the other side of the door.

"Door's unlocked," Kurt groans.

"Hey, everyone's wondering where you've gone," Blaine says softly as he closes the door behind him. He crosses the room and climbs on Kurt's bed to sit in front of him, a look of concern on his face. "You okay?"

"If by 'okay' you mean 'humiliated beyond repair', than yes, I'm okay," Kurt deadpans, letting out a dry chuckle that sounds a lot like a sob.

"I'm so sorry about earlier."

"You know that subject is a sore spot for me, Blaine. Why'd you have to talk about it in front of my friends? You know I find it hard to have that conversation with _you_ and it's about stuff we do _together_!"

Blaine shakes his head and looks down sheepishly. "I don't know. I got carried away. I didn't think."

"Maybe you should try it more often, it'd be a nice change."

"No need to insult me, Kurt," Blaine replies sharply, looking up from his lap. "I know you're upset, but don't be cruel."

"I can't believe you." And Kurt can't believe they're fighting. It's their first real fight since they started dating and it only makes him feel worse about everything to think about that.

"Neither can I. You act like I forced you to do what you did last night, and we both know who was the one insisting," Blaine says bitterly.

"I was drunk! And I never exactly heard you complaining!"

"Exactly!" Blaine says loudly. It startles Kurt and his eyes widen. Blaine _never_ raises his voice. "You were drunk! No one's going to assume it's something you would normally do, Kurt. Your friends know you better than that."

"You and I both know alcohol lowers inhibitions. What that says is I'm a creepy exhibitionist in hiding."

"No, it says you like to show off and cause a commotion. Hell, I kissed Rachel, it doesn't mean I'm bi," Kurt quirks his eyebrow at that, which makes Blaine roll his eyes. "It means I'm the clingy type of drunk. No one's taking anything literally but you." Blaine's voice is soft once more and he leans forward to squeeze Kurt's knee. "And you should have seen Puck's face when I was talking about all that. He looked so impressed, Kurt. You would have been proud."

"You mean if I hadn't been trying to figure out whether I'd be able to hang myself with the curtains?" Kurt tries to sound annoyed but if Blaine's thoughtless blabber impressed Puck, well, he does feel kind of proud. It's Puckerman, after all, and he has enough impressive tales to make an HBO tv series.

"Are we okay? I'm sorry I embarrassed you, I really am." Blaine's biting his lip and scrunching up his face, making Kurt's heart ache at how adorable he is.

Kurt sighs, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm not angry at you. I'm—I'm mostly angry at myself for doing what I did, and angry at whoever told everyone when it was supposed to be a secret. But," he drawls. "We're not okay. There's something we still need to talk about."

"Mm?"

"You used our safe word, last night."

Blaine's breathe hitches and he rubs the back of his neck. "We don't have to talk about this, really."

"I think we do, honey. It's kind of a big deal."

"It kind of isn't, seriously."

"You and I both know why we have a safe word. You can't go throwing it around and expect me to think there's nothing wrong."

"I was kind of hoping you would, but—" Blaine shifts and leans back, his hands pressed into the mattress. He's looking at the ceiling when he talks again. "I guess I don't really like others knowing I'm—you know."

"I don't, sorry."

Blaine groans and moves his hands to cover his face, making him fall backwards on the bed, his head at the foot. The mattress bounces slightly and that makes Kurt smile.

"I felt weak, okay? You were there, like, teasing me and I couldn't do anything and I didn't want to beg, not when Puckerman was looking at me like I was a piece of meat and with Santana smirking knowingly and just. I don't know, Kurt, okay? I freaked out and I didn't know what to do and I knew you wouldn't listen to me if I said I wanted you to stop and I panicked. That's all."

"I would have listened to you," Kurt says slowly, frowning because _what_.

"No, you wouldn't have. And it's okay, Kurt, that's the whole point. And any other time, I would have played along, you know. But yesterday, that didn't work for me. We can move on, now, okay?" Blaine's voice is strangled, suddenly, and Kurt's heart leaps.

"Yes, of course. Of course," Kurt whispers. He gets on all fours and crawls across the bed to lie down next to Blaine. "I don't know for you, but I feel like I'm dying."

"I'm pretty sure I'm already dead. It's worse than after Rachel's party."

"At least you won't have to go on an awkward date this time."

"Oh baby, trust me, I could easily make our next date awkward, I won't even have to try hard."

Kurt snorts and pushes Blaine's foot with his own. "That didn't even make sense."

"I don't care," Blaine drawls.

Blaine turns on his side and buries his face against Kurt's chest at the same time than the door to Kurt's room is thrown open.

"Hide me, please, oh my god," Finn moans as he climbs on Kurt's bed. He crawls across it - narrowly avoiding Kurt and Blaine's legs - before getting off on the other side and lying on the floor.

"Finn?" Blaine asks, lifting his head and scooting so he can look over the edge of the bed. Kurt mimics him.

"Puck found more alcohol. He wants to start drinking again. Santana's already calling body shots and Artie keeps saying 'hair of the dog' and taking shots of beer."

"And what about telling them no?" Kurt snarls and throws a cushion at his step-brother.

"Have you ever tried to say no to Puckerman? No, I'm hiding here until they pass out, or die, or leave."

While Kurt searches his brain for a witty comeback – he's _tired_, okay, and his brain's working in slow-motion – they hear a loud crash coming from downstairs, followed by howls of laughter.

"Finn, go deal with them," Kurt moans.

"No, it's your house."

"What? It's yours as well."

"I don't want it to be! You're older. Go."

"By two months, Finn. Only two months."

"Still counts."

Kurt groans and rolls on his stomach, hiding his face in his folded arms. After a few seconds, he turns his head to look at Blaine, who's lying on his side and stroking Kurt's back soothingly. "I want it to be known that I hate my step-brother."

"What did you say?" Finn asks from the floor.

"I hate you!" Kurt growls. "I can't believe you think I have any sort of authority over them."

"Maybe not, but you can be pretty scary when you go all PMS on someone."

"I'm going to overlook how incredibly sexist this comment was to tell you to man up and handle the situation like the 6'3" tall quarterback that you are, for Christ's sake."

With a long-suffering sigh, Finn gets up and heads for the door. He makes a show of dragging his feet on the floor and slumping his shoulders, which makes Blaine laugh.

"Courage, Finn. You're the stuff of legends. People will tell tales of your bravery hundreds of years from now. Now go face your destiny and let us nap."

Finn telling Blaine to 'fuck off' is drowned by Kurt's laughter. He sighs when he stops and then yawns. "Oh my god, yes, a nap, that's the best idea ever," Kurt gasps.

"You're adorable," Blaine whispers, moving closer to Kurt to use his chest as a pillow, his arm and leg draped over Kurt's body.

Kurt is just about to fall asleep when loud voices make him jump. From the noise Blaine makes, he guesses he was asleep. They both groggily look up in time to see Rachel running towards the bed and settling down next to them, a grin on her face.

"Finn said you guys wanted to nap, so we decided to join you instead of partying."

"_We_!"

Kurt sees Blaine's face contorting with horror before he notices them, but when he does, he lets out a whine and puts his hands over his face. The entire glee club is standing in the doorway like they're waiting for Kurt to let them in.

"Did you all decide to nap on my bed?" he snaps at them.

"Can we?" Brittany asks brightly as she pushes her way through the others and makes her way into the room. She hesitantly sits on the edge of Kurt's bed and gives him a small smile.

"Ugh, whatever, I'm so beyond _everything_. No shoes, though!"

The next few minutes are uncomfortable with everyone trying to fit on the bed but when they're all settled, silence falls over the room and the entire atmosphere shifts. Kurt is being used as a pillow by Blaine, Rachel and Mercedes; Mercedes as her head on his belly while Blaine and Rachel have theirs on his chest. Kurt doesn't dare move in case it throws their fragile equilibrium off balance and someone falls to the floor.

"I love you, guys," Tina whispers and Kurt sees Puck extending his arm to pat her arm. Of course, he knows Puck did that only because Tina has no way of knowing who did it, but to know that he spontaneously felt the need to show Tina affection causes a warm feeling to fill Kurt's chest.

Blaine was right, after all. His friends know him better than he could ever suspect, and there's no way they'll judge him for what he did when inebriated. They'll tease him and remind him every chance they get, but they know, deep down, that Kurt is more than what he shows, just like they are more than the sum of their actions, as emphasised by the smallest things, like Quinn brushing hair out of a sleeping Artie's forehead – Kurt is pretty sure it's very dangerous to put an handicapped kid on a bed with a dozen other teenagers but he's not going to ruin everyone's fun – or Mike cuddling with Sam.


End file.
